Dragoncrest Cliffs ocean hymns

Thur is near the borders so anyone welcome!

The grip they have on Dragoncrest Cliffs is something similar she once felt on Sleeping Dragon but she knows better than to feel comfortable. Having been a leader for a long time, longer than she’s been alive at barely three years old, she knows things come and go so easily to disrupt the way things flow. Sleeping Dragon had other ideas and she often wonders if those they lost in the anger of the beast have perished. She does not want to think they moved on from the wolves that brought them into this world, from those that have kept them safe and protected them, but the thought lingers somewhere in the back of her mind. Turning tail on Drageda is as much of a death sentence as betraying someone from within.

As Thuringwethil loiters near the southeastern border of Drageda, she thinks about Ceres and her lack of return. There has been no information on the grotto since they’ve come to the coast. If the wolves have disappeared from Larksong, Ceres likely would have returned by this point but the threat something worse happened can’t be ruled out. Going to the grotto alone is not safe, especially with two wolves not returning from their missions.

Pulled from her thoughts, she turns her head when a sound disrupts the background. Glancing over her shoulder at the rustling, her fur bristles in reflex and she slowly pulls all the way around. The brush moves in the distance between the scent of a squirrel tickles her nose and eventually breaks through and skitters from its cover to the nearest tree. Thuringwethil does not pursue it despite the desire too but the debate is cut short as the rodent circles its way up the tall redwood trunk.